Arachne's weaving
by tyson and eye
Summary: Arachne is a good weaver but will her pride cause her death?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Arachne's POV

I sat at my loom, weaving a beautiful picture of the great Greek goddess of the moon and the hunt, Artemis. The picture showed her crouching in the forest bow drawn and arrow notched. Her face was set with a hard determined look. I had just finished the maidens silver aura and was starting to weave the loyal wolf pack that she led.

"Wow that's amazing!" a voice said almost making me fall of my loom.

"Yes, weaving has been a passion of mine since I was just a little girl." I said turning to see a young woman in her twenties.

I finished my picture of Artemis and sold it to the young woman for a reasonable price.

As I started to weave my second picture I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see a regular teenage girl. Well at least she looked like a regular teenage girl. But looking closer I saw that she was not. She had pointy ears and elf like features her dress seemed to be made of leafs and twigs rather than ordinary materials.

"What are you?" I asked

"I am a Nymph," She said "I was just admiring your weaving, you do it so gracefully."

"Come here," I said "would you mind if I weaved a picture of you?"

The Nymph looked like she was about to faint. "Oh, I would be delighted," she said as she walked over "Thank you, Miss!"

I set to work. I weaved the Nymph's green eyes and pointed nose, her perfect brown hair and her amazing dress. When I was finished I gave her the picture and she ran off delighted. Then the strangest thing happened she turned around, waved goodbye and _pop._ She turned into a solid oak tree.

"Fascinating," I mumbled to myself "Very fascinating."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Arachne's POV

I sat at my loom in an opening of the forest. I was weaving a picture of the horizon; the waves looked as if they were actually crashing against the shore and the sun was bright and held a warm glow. The sand was a stunning shade of yellow. The sun was falling and it made a fantastic sunset, violet, orange, and pink and yellows all dominated the sky making it a beautiful picture.

I heard a series of _pops_ and looked up to see a group of Nymphs watching me weave.

They gave me lots of compliments and asked lots of questions as I worked, but one of them caught me by surprise: "Who taught you how to weave?" One said "Was it the patron goddess of weaving, Athena?"

"Athena," I scoffed "Athena herself could not do better than me!"

Long after the Nymphs left I continued weaving. An old lady leaning on a walking stick and wearing a warm cardigan approached me "Be careful what you say about the gods," the old lady warned "Unless you want to feel their wrath!"

"Save your breath," I told her "They are not real, they have no wrath!"

Then the old lady let her cardigan and walking stick drop to the ground. She straightened up. She had intense grey eyes that looked like her brain was thinking of a million different things at once.

"I am Athena,"" She said "Goddess of wisdom, war and useful arts and I challenge you to a weaving contest!"


	3. Chapter 3

Athena's POV

Arachne looked up at me. "Athena, "she said "You think you can beat me? Think again. I accept your challenge and if I lose then you can punish me however you think necessary!"

We each sat at our loom and the contest began!

I started to weave a scene of my contest with Poseidon over the city of Athens. A beautiful image developed by the threads, showing Poseidon with the saltwater spring and me with an olive tree. These were gifts to the people who called me their patron and named their city after me.

As we weaved, many people gathered and marveled at my work. At the speed and skill that I manipulated the shuttle, passing it in and out among the threads.

"I recommend that you give up before it is too late." I told Arachne as I continued weaving.

"You only want me to give up because you think you are going to lose!" Arachne cackled.

We continued weaving, Arachne matching me stroke for stroke. I looked up at Arachnes picture and what I saw made me boil up in anger: She had created a picture with different scenes: Leda with the Swan, Europa with the bull, Danae and the golden rain shower. It was so exquisite that the bull seemed lifelike, swimming across the tapestry with a girl on its shoulders. Europa in a state of shock, pulling her feet away from the water in fear.

I got so enraged that I stood from my loom and ripped Arachne's tapestry to shreds. Then I placed my fingers on Arachne's forehead and made sure she felt full guilt for her actions.

The same was too much for her mortal mind and she ran off into the woods. I turned but no one was there they had all disappeared into the woods.

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself following Arachne deep into the woods.

After walking for ten minutes I found Arachne in a clearing. She was limb and hanging from a tree branch by her neck. She had hung herself.

I instantly took pity on her. I wasn't a mean spirited goddess. Was I? I hadn't expected Arachne to commit suicide, but she had to be taught a lesson.

I decided what I would do. I pulled a vial of dust from my pocket and sprinkled it over Arachne. She started to change shape: her arms and legs turning black and hard. Two more sets of long hard arms sprouted from her chest, her face got swallowed by a hard shell and her number of eyes multiplied and she grew to massive fangs at the sides of her mouth. She was the mother of spiders.

I turned and walked into the trees. Five steps into the forest and I shimmered and vanished leaving behind me Arachne who – just like her descendants – would forever hang from threads and spin their webs.


End file.
